A Different Story
by ILikeShorts
Summary: Shauntal writes a little something about Grimsley. And it's not at all what he expects...


_A/N: I'm a huge fan of the oft-used Shauntal-writes-about-Grimsley plot. Naturally, I couldn't resist the temptation to turn the whole idea on its head. Let's just say it's called A Different Story for a reason…_

* * *

**A Different Story**

* * *

It was always the quiet ones.

Grimsley couldn't say he hadn't seen it coming. After all, there had long been rumors afoot. Rumors that, in addition to her world-renowned epics, the soft-spoken, bookish Shauntal was secretly a purveyor of—_ahem_—adult literature.

Shauntal could deny them all she wanted, but he knew better. She had more than a touch of that naughty librarian look about her, did she not? And some might accuse him of being overly suspicious, but did she truly expect people to believe she was up till three in the morning every night penning heartwarming tales of the bonds between trainers and their Pokémon? Yeah, _right_. And he hit up the casino five nights a week for the ambiance.

Perhaps the others could be fooled. Marshal was far too trusting. Iris was still a child. Caitlin was asleep more often than not. But Grimsley? He wasn't buying it. What else could explain the countless times he'd stumbled into her study after a long night of gambling and debauchery, only to have her scramble to shield her stories from his view?

There wasn't a single doubt in his mind. Those were no ordinary stories she was working on.

And that was hardly the only rumor going around. He'd also heard mumblings that Shauntal was harboring somewhat of a _crush _on him, for lack of a less juvenile way to put it. According to Caitlin, whose psychic abilities seemed to know no bounds (or maybe she'd simply talked to Shauntal—that would be the more logical explanation), that rumor was as accurate as could be.

Besides, Grimsley wasn't blind_._ He'd noticed the way she turned several different shades of pink and struggled to meet his eyes when he so much as leaned across her desk. To put it bluntly, the girl was crazy about him. So it was no wonder what he thought when she invited herself into his chambers early one evening, carrying what appeared to be an as-of-yet unpublished book of hers.

He welcomed her with inquiring eyes. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Shauntal took his words as an invitation to join him, trailing slim fingers down the black leather couch as she seated herself at his side. "I wanted to show you what I did last night."

"And what might that be?" Grimsley met her tentative smile with a devilish grin of his own, his curiosity now fully aroused.

"I wrote a short story. It's about you."

* * *

It wasn't_ that_ kind of story.

It couldn't be. The very thought of it was preposterous. He was merely jumping to the worst of conclusions, an unfortunate consequence of allowing his mind to sink much too deep into the gutter. What she subjected her characters to was one thing, but Shauntal would never go so far as to chronicle her own romantic fantasies. This was absolutely, unquestionably, most definitely_ not_ some kind of erotic novel.

"You can read it, if you'd like." She held out the loosely bound pages with a wavering hand, and almost instantly, the title caught his eye. _In the Dark:_ it read._ Twenty Minutes of Utter Domination_.

It was an erotic novel.

He shook his head in disbelief, inching farther and farther away from Shauntal with every passing moment. "No, thanks. I'm good."

It wasn't the content that bothered him. Grimsley was no stranger to the dubious, the objectionable, and even the downright wrong. The things he'd seen at the back-alley establishments he frequented for a quick poker fix now and again would make just about anyone pale in the face. And it certainly wasn't Shauntal. Bookworm or not, there was something about her. He'd be lying if he said she hadn't been the subject of a few fantasies of his own. But the thought of her sitting alone in her study late at night, churning out pages and pages of dirty little stories about _him_…

Well, that was just _weird_.

"Please, at least take a look," she pleaded with him. "I'd really like to know what you think."

Grimsley raised an eyebrow. "I highly doubt that." His expression softened, however, when he saw the hurt on her face. "Not to detract from your writing skills, of course. It's just that I'm afraid I may find it more than a little… unsettling."

"Well, it _is_ a bit on the graphic side. Caitlin didn't even make it past the third page. Ran upstairs as fast as her heels would carry her muttering something about erasing it from her memory forever. But you…" Her voice took on a tone that could only be described as suggestive. "Oh, I think you can handle it."

His instincts got the best of him. Grimsley abruptly leapt to his feet, leaving him at a loss for how to explain his behavior as she fixed him with a questioning look. "C'mon, Shauntal. I've got things to do. And I'm really not into—"

"Oh, don't go. I'll admit it gets rough in parts. But I thought _you _of all people would enjoy that. Marshal certainly did."

Grimsley made a mental note to avoid Marshal for the remainder of his Pokémon League career.

* * *

He would have no such luck. As he bolted from the room, leaving a disappointed Shauntal still reeling on the couch, he ran into the very person he had sought to avoid, heaping praise upon praise onto the very story he had hoped to soon forget about. According to Marshal, the piece was nothing short of thrilling. He spoke of it with such fervor, Grimsley wondered if it was time he started looking for a new job.

"And what were your thoughts?" Marshal asked, disrupting Grimsley's every effort to block out his words.

"I haven't read it yet." And if he had any choice in the matter, he never would.

"Well then, I won't spoil all the fun, but Shauntal made one thing clear." Marshal beamed at him. "You sure know how to get it done. It's a true story, is it not?"

Was _that _what she was telling people?

His stunned silence was interrupted by none other than Shauntal, emerging from his chambers with newfound determination. "See? _He_ likes it. If you'd just give it a chance…"

"If it isn't the authoress herself." Marshal let out a low chuckle. "I think I'll head back to mine and work on some new moves. Why not take this opportunity to acquaint yourself with the next big bestseller? And maybe next time…" He grinned in a way that was rather frightening, all things considered. "I can watch."

Grimsley shot his colleague a look of pure revulsion. As far as he was concerned, there was only one way to cope with the horrors that had befallen him today.

"Screw this. I'm going to the casino."

* * *

Grimsley left the League headquarters with a cursory wave to Iris, who was perched upon the steps, happily reading away. There was no need for him to slip out unnoticed. In a rather convenient turn of events, Unova's newest Champion was not yet aware of his penchant for rolling the dice.

Her voice rang out across the terrace. "Off to lose all your battle winnings?"

Or so he'd thought.

"Yeah, I know where you go at night." Iris glanced up from her book with a giggle. "Gambling doesn't pay, you know."

He gave a dismissive shrug. "Only when you're losing, kid. And I don't lose."

"Really? Because Shauntal said—"

"I wouldn't believe a thing Shauntal says. Or writes, for that matter." He paused thoughtfully. "I suppose I have the occasional off night, once in a blue moon. But I win it all back in the end. Eventually."

"Sure you do."

And as he fumbled for a retort, it occurred to him—just _what _was she reading, exactly?

"Iris?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"What, may I ask, is that?" He gestured toward her reading material of choice, which he couldn't help but notice looked awfully familiar…

"Oh, this?" She grinned at him conspiratorially. "Don't tell Shauntal. She thinks it's 'too much' for someone my age. But I'm not a kid anymore. So I had my Archeops swipe it off her desk when she left to get a coffee."

"You did not."

"I did too! Pretty cool, huh?"

He let out a heavy sigh, his head falling forward into his hands. "You are far,_ far_ too young to be reading that."

"What's the big deal?" She pouted. "There's nothing in here I haven't seen before. How do you think I got to be Champion, anyway?"

There were no words. Simply no words. Grimsley had long suspected that some questionable activity went down behind the scenes at the Pokémon League, but _that_…

He snatched the offending story from the young Champion and walked away, shaking his head in disgust.

"Hey!" Iris shouted after him. "I was reading that! It was just starting to get good, too!"

* * *

Grimsley didn't go to the casino that night. He returned to his chambers, clutching the book in a death grip. If everyone and their Lillipup was going to get their hands on it, perhaps he was better off knowing what he was in for. At long last, it was time he faced up to this. Whatever Shauntal had written, it couldn't be _that _bad.

And if it was? He could always pack up and move to Kanto.

So he poured himself a rather large tumbler of whiskey—while Caitlin possessed all manner of mental powers to obliterate this atrocity of a story from her mind, he had no choice but to make do with good old-fashioned alcohol—and slowly lifted its cover.

And as the narrator launched into a startlingly violent account of his Bisharp's brutal assault on the hapless team of an inexperienced challenger, he began to feel very foolish indeed.

* * *

It was official. He was well and truly losing it.

Only now did he understand why Marshal had enjoyed the work so thoroughly, why Iris claimed to have seen it all before. _Rough in parts… utter domination… a bit on the graphic side… _finally, he knew the true meaning behind those words.

A battle. That was all it was. A somewhat gruesome depiction of one, granted, but a battle nonetheless. And yet he'd thought…

Never mind what he'd thought. His ill-conceived assumption had been both humorous and horrifying, but there was no use in dwelling on it any further. All that was left to do now was to go down the hall to the interminable mess that Shauntal called her study and compliment the girl on what was easily the most rousing story he'd ever read.

She was hunched over her desk amid stacks of books and papers when he arrived, her features downcast as she peered at him over the surrounding array of clutter. "You're back early."

"I never left." He returned the manuscript with a flourish, deliberately brushing his fingers against hers, and suppressed a smirk at the familiar blush that colored her face. "I got caught up in a bit of reading. Fascinating reading, I might add."

"I was wondering where that went." The hint of accusation in her voice did not go unnoticed.

"You may want to have a word with our Champion. It turns out her Archeops is quite the burglar. Luckily, I was able to retrieve it, and…"

"And?"

"It was absolutely riveting. More so than the battle itself," he told her in earnest. "You have a real talent, Shauntal. Though I'm sure you've heard it many times before."

"No, I… thank you. It means more than you know. Still…" Her appreciative smile gave way to a thoughtful frown. "I don't see why you wouldn't just read it in the first place."

Grimsley chose his words carefully. "Let's just say I was expecting something… different."

"Like what?" she shot back with surprising audacity. "An erotic novel?"

He forced out a laugh that was unconvincing even to his own ears. "No."


End file.
